Alfred Vs The Friend Zone
by Electricity Today
Summary: Alfred's been placed in the worst location known to mankind: the Friend Zone. Little does he know.. it's an actual place? I am not sorry for writing this trash.


**Please help me I have no idea why I did this. Enjoy improper grammar and the worst plot in history :) It's comedic trash.**

Bouquet quivering in his hands, Alfred proceeded in his path to the house booth. The waiter residing there seemed half asleep. Yet when Alfred asked for his reservation table for two, the waiter obliged and took him to the table.

Alfred sat in his seat a while, the bouquet of roses at his knee. He tapped his fingers at the table and fiddled with his fork to pass the time. Later on, the same waiter approached his table with a jar of water, "Hello sir? Would you like any drinks this evening?"

"No thanks," the American waved his hand thoroughly, "I'm not that thirsty"

The waiter gazed inquisitively at him but soon nodded and receded back to his post.

After a while, Alfred grew restless again. He looked to the waiter, who was gazing at him peculiarly.

"Hey, Mister," spoke the waiter, "Aren't you supposed to have a ring on that finger?"

Alfred absentmindedly looked to his left ring finger and blushed, "What? No! I'm not getting married! I'm not even dating the person that's coming!"

The waiter blinked. He blinked again. Then he gasped, "W-Wha?" he turned in the direction of the kitchen, "Chef!

 _Chef_! He's not getting married! What're we gonna do Chef?"

The people dining began to murmur amongst themselves. Alfred sank lower into the booth.

A fat man with a red face came galloping out of the kitchen. He spoke in heaves and a thick Italian accent, "Not getting married you say?"

The waiter nodded.

Chef grabbed the poor boy by the shoulders and spat in his face, " _Ragazzo_! Do not speak such terrible things, not in my restaurant!"

"But Chef–"

"Just keep our voices low, and he could propose by the end of the night!"

It was now Alfred's turn to be confused. Was being in a relationship so mandatory that this restaurant refuses to serve single people? Preposterous! They're just probably... concerned for Alfred's solitude. It was strange, but it's the story Alfred promised himself.

Just as soon as the chef left, another person slid into the booth with him.

"Arthur..!" Alfred breathlessly exclaimed, so thankful he finally made his night debut. The Englishman smiled as he adjusted himself in the seat, "Hello Alfred. How are you?"

"Fan-flipping-tastic!"

Arthur laughed, "Yes, I'm sure you are."

Alfred fished beneath his seat to whip out the roses he prepared. He felt his face flush when presenting the bouquet, "I.. got these for you!"

Arthur stared at him with a sense of hesitance in his eyes. He took the bouquet, "Um.. thanks Alfred," it was at moments like these, Alfred noticed, that Arthur's accent really stood out. The Englishman took the bundle of roses gratefully, he began to finger one of the petals, "Um, Alfred?"

"Yes? What's up dude?"

Arthur's face portrayed a look of embarrassment and uneasiness. He set the flowers down beside his lap, "Look. I like you and all, but you're my friend. I'm not gay."

The world froze.

Literally though. As soon as Alfred's heart hesitated, so did the world around him. Everyone froze, their saddened focus on him. Color began to drain from everyone and everything. It wasn't long before Alfred's world was black and white.

"Hello?" he called, his main concern focused on Arthur, "Whats going on?"

A cleavage ripped in the tile floor beneath him, revealing an eerie glow. Arms, skeletal arms, began reaching out of the rift, reaching towards him. A skeletal hand encircled his ankle and began to tug him into the hole.

"Arthur! _Arthur help me_!" he cried, arms flailing rapidly.

It wasn't long until he was forced through the hole, into the unknown.

When Alfred awoke, he was already awake. Wait what?

Let's just state it this way: When Alfred's eyes opened, he was shuffling down a hall as if he'd already been awake. Maybe he has been. There were two guards at either side of him, a spear in their hands. They wore hooded cloaks, concealing their identity. Alfred grew only more nervous when seeing he was handcuffed.

The guards assisted him into what appeared to be a jail cell, locked it, and vanished. Alfred banged his hands against the cell bars, "Come back here! What's going on?"

He heard the faint sound of a harmonica in the cell. Alfred spun around to see a man lying against the cell walls, instrument in hand. He nearly puked when seeing whom it was, "Francis? What're you doing here?"

The Frenchman put down the harmonica rather mournfully. He looked surprised when seeing him, "Alfred? My friend, is this your first time here?"

Alfred didn't know how to respond, "Um, yes.."

Francis assembled himself upward, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "Well.. welcome to the Friend Zone!"

Alfred's jaw dropped, "You're kidding me. The Friend Zone is an actual, literal place?"

"That it is, my friend,"

Alfred slapped a hand to his forehead, "I cannot believe this! I _won't_ believe this!" he spun back around to face Francis, "Where am I _really_?"

The Frenchman brought back out his harmonica, "I've already told you. The Friend Zone," He begun to play a saddening tune.

"Well, how am I supposed to get out of here? I can't be a friend for the rest of my life!" Alfred defied.

Francis removed the instrument from his lips rather annoyedly, his face showing his consideration for the question, "Well, there are two ways,"

"Yes?"

"One, you can learn to get over your love,"

Alfred's eyes widened, "No! You've got to be playing with me, Francis! It would be impossible for me to 'get over' Arthur.." his voice trailed off.

Francis raised his eyebrow, "And why's that?"

"Because," the American began, his chest beginning to pound slightly, "Because I'm just _so_ in love with that man..."

The Frenchman's eyes dilated. He frowned a bit when saying, "Then you'll have to go with escape number two,"

Alfred mimicked Francis's gaze, "And what's that? Defeat my inner demons? Summon Satan? Save the world?"

Francis took a breath, "Its literally just escaping. You go out that way, take two rights, and a left,"

"But the jail cell..."

Francis went right on with the damn harmonica. Annoyed, Alfred sat down and contemplated to himself. How could he get out of here? Was it even possible?

 _Come on, Alfred. You're a hero, you can do hero work. You can do this!_ Alfred contemplated to himself the options. There were no windows in his cell, no washroom appliances, no air vent, and no electric paneling. Truly, the only was to escape was out the bars of the cell.

The bars were close enough together that only a wrist could fit through, not any more.

Alfred frowned.

He felt the sweat begin to circle his wrists. Come on Alfred, think.. In a moment of despair, the American scratched the back of his head. The hair entertained his fingers. It finally hit him.

"Francis, do you have a bobby pin?"

He Frenchman removed one from his hair, letting a few curled strands fly loose. Alfred first-bumped the air, "Yes!" He was going to break out in a good old cliché style. It was tedious, but he was going to break out.

With much grace, he inserted the bobby pin into the lock. Alfred grew confused as he slid the weak metal around. What exactly was it he was supposed to be doing? Though a hero, Alfred's never picked a lock before! He's never been in jail before, since he's a hero. So heroic. He's so heroic it hurts.

Alfred frowned. With great haste, Alfred removed the pin from the lock's grasp. It was all bent and twisted. Alfred had ruined it!

Fury burrowed through his skull. Alfred clenched his fists. He grew into a state of anger, hurling the bobby pin at the cement ground. Arthur had never liked it when Alfred grew this angry. Oh, that's right, Arthur. That's who he was going through all this for. His euphoria.

The American sighed dreamily to himself, picturing Arthur. Then it occurred to him; what if he doesn't get out of here? He'd more likely never see Arthur again.

With that thought, Alfred kicked down the cell door. He stuck a landing. Alfred winked, "Sweet! I'm the hero~"

Alfred stopped before heading out the door, "Dude, you coming?" his question was directed towards the Frenchman on the harmonica. Francis shrugged, "I'll catch up with you, my friend,"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Later!"

Not entirely sure what he was doing, Alfred darted down a stone hallway. Was it two lefts and a right? Or two rights and a left? Trusting his ever-dependent, reliable instincts, Alfred took a left, followed by another left, and a right. Luckily he was blessed with tremendous amounts of stamina from a young age, he never tired throughout the run.

Alfred slowed when coming upon a dead end. He scratched his head, could he had been wrong? Was it two rights and then a left? Impossible, his instincts were always correct!

Hearing a sudden _thump_ , Alfred spun around. He expected the same guards as before, with their hooded cloaks and pointed spears. But what he witnessed was horrific.

Alfred emitted an ear-piercing shriek, " _OH MY GOD IT'S AMERICA MOCHI_ "

The blob-ish monster stood before him, cheeky grin on face. His cowlick stood erect, as if mocking the American. Alfred tensed, never before had he seen something so bone-chilling, so spine-chilling, so extra-terrestrial. Except maybe E.T. But we're not talking about E.T., we're talking about a freak of nature.

Alfred raised his fists, "Y-You wanna go, punk?" he defied.

The mochi merely tilted his head at this, not seeming to care. Suddenly without warning, a platoon of guards stormed in, surrounding Alfred. Each held their spears in hand, indicating an unpleasant battle. Alfred's fists shook, he's taken on bulls before, but never an entire army. Nevertheless, he persuaded himself that he could do this! He threw a punch at the first thing that came at him. It was ineffective.

Alfred shook his hand in pain. He jumped back as the guards came at him, swinging their spears about. A spearpoint was knocked into his chest, sending him to the ground. He clutched the injury and scrambled away from the hideous creatures.

Perhaps this was the end, maybe he'll never see Arthur again. Alfred hung his head low. Maybe then he'll-

 _WAPOW_!

Alfred looked up to see what'd occurred. His jaw dropped to the floor when seeing his rescuer, "Mochi?!"

Yes, that's right. America mochi was standing (or squatting, he doesn't really have legs) atop the unconscious group of guards, each with Xs for eyes tongues sticking out rather like a cartoon.

Alfred approached the mochi, grasping his hurt chest tightly, "M-Mochi.. you saved me. I owe my life to you! I'm so sorry I didn't respect you befo-"

" _HONHONHON_!"

Before Alfred realized it, the Frenchman stormed in and whacked the poor mochi with his harmonica. Francis continued assaulting America mochi until the creature was knocked unconscious. Alfred shoved Francis back, "What the heck man?"

The Frenchman was confused, "I'm sorry I'm late, my friend I was busy recollecting my thoughts back there."

"That's not what I'm talking about!" Alfred ran over to his mochi, and took the creature in his arms. It felt like marshmallows! Alfred soon became aware of his foolishness, "Eh. Whatever. It's just a mochi."

He stood up triumphantly, "Let's get out of here, Francis!"

"Oui! But, my friend, I have one concern"

"Yeah, bro?"

"If I remember correct, I told you to take two rights and a left."

"Nope! Two lefts and a right!"

"Are you sure? Because I—"

"Francis, my instincts are always accurate."

"Your memory seems to be failing..."

"My instincts and memory are both accurate. Now let's go!"

Finding the exit was easy enough. Coming back to Arthur the next day was more difficult. He decided that relationships were tedious and a real pain. Only if both subjects can agree on committing themselves, then something special might happen.

But since Arthur didn't feel the same way, Alfred told himself he'll 'get over' him just as Francis said. That day never came.

But mochi America came. And the two became best bros forever.

DA END

* * *

 **Hey...!** **Guys I am literally so sorry for forgetting to mention this. I meant to put it at the end!**

 **This oneshot was based on this video:** watch?v=tcmFL4DzIng **, a stopmotion for Ninjago. Check out the video, it's really cool!**

 **thanks for all you're lovely comments!**


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